Love Stinks
by MaryRoyale
Summary: "You love her, but she loves him. He loves somebody else- you just can't win." -J. Geils Band Valentine's Day didn't turn out exactly as Millicent had planned. Thank Merlin she's got good friends. Or Malfoy anyway. MB/DM friendship.


**The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition- SemiFinals**

**Team:** Falmouth Falcons

**Author: **MaryRoyale

**Position:** Beater #2

**Prompts Used:** Valentine's Day, The Three Broomsticks, Rich

**Title:** Love Stinks  
**Official Disclaimer**: The original characters of this story are the property of the J.K. Rowling. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. It is my contention that this work of fan fiction is fair use under copyright law. No monies were received for receipt of this work.

**Challenge:** Write about a lesser known character (fewer than 200 stories in English) in a friendship.

**Lessor Known Character:** Millicent Bulstrode (She had 163 at the start of the challenge.)  
**Rating:** T  
**Word Count:** approx. 2700

**A/N:** As people have pointed out (you know who you are) I have a strange fascination for Millicent Bulstrode. I do. I acknowledge it. I could wax lyrical, but you probably don't want that. There is no pairing for this story.

/\/\/\

Love Stinks

MB/DM friendship

/\/\/\

_February 14__th_

_Games Division, Ministry of Magic_

"Terry?" Millicent Bulstrode rapped lightly on the door to Terry Boot's office and then poked her head inside. "Terry are you there?"

As an unspeakable Millicent had a hectic schedule that didn't follow regular hours. In some of the more esoteric rooms of the Department of Mysteries time didn't exactly flow normally. Therefore she felt slightly justified that she had completely forgotten about Valentine's Day. She hoped that her boyfriend wasn't too irritated and that they could still make plans. Just in case, she had booked a last-minute reservation at Hubert's, which had involved several favours owed by a number of friends and acquaintances. Millicent hoped that Terry appreciated all the effort that she had gone to for him.

"Terry?" Millicent called again.

His office was completely empty. _How odd_. It was only two in the afternoon. Well past the time he should have been back from lunch and far too early to leave work. There weren't any major Quidditch matches coming up so there was no reason for Terry to not be in his office. Millicent frowned to herself and walked down the hall to Ludo Bagman's office.

"Ah, Millie," Ludo said cheerfully. "Looking as lovely as ever. How are you?"

"I was looking for Terry," Millicent replied ignoring Ludo's over-the-top compliments.

Bagman scratched his head. "I think he said something about doing inventory of the supply cupboard," he said at last. "We're covering the preliminary qualifying matches for England's team for the World Cup you know."

"Yes, Terry had mentioned that," Millicent replied. "Which way is the supply cupboard?"

"Just down the hall on your left," Ludo explained.

Millicent nodded politely and headed down the hall.

_Still February 14__th_

_The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade_

"Today is a busy day, love," Rosmerta said with a sigh. "I need the table. Why don't you just sit at the bar?"

"I'm happy to pay you for the privilege of sitting here," Draco Malfoy drawled coolly. "Whatever you think is fair. Just put it on my tab."

"The other customers are going to complain," Rosmerta countered.

Draco shrugged arrogantly. "Let them."

Rosmerta sighed again and went back to the bar. Several patrons scowled at Draco — mostly those who were crammed about small tables or bunched into small booths; he ignored them all. If they were uncomfortable they could always hire one of the private rooms. He sneered at the room in general and took another sip of his Firewhiskey. The slow burn of the Firewhiskey as it slid down his throat matched the dull ache in his chest. He scowled at the table and took another sip from his tumbler.

The bell over the door tinkled merrily in direct contrast with the way the door was thrown open. Millicent Bulstrode paused for a moment on the threshold and scanned the room. When her eyes fell on Draco she nodded to him and shut the door behind her. She marched over to his booth and plopped down across from him. Millicent snatched the tumbler of Firewhiskey out of his hand and downed it in one go. Draco blinked at her in surprise.

"I say, Mills, that was mine," Draco protested.

"You can afford to get another Draco," Millicent reminded him. "It's one of the few perks of being disgustingly rich." She gestured impatiently at Rosmerta.

The owner of the Three Broomsticks sighed heavily and made her way back over to Draco's table. "Yes?"

"Ogden's," Millicent said succinctly. She paused for a moment and eyed Draco thoughtfully. "Best bring the whole bottle. Put it on Malfoy's tab."

Rosmerta's eyebrows rose slightly, but she didn't say a word. Several moments later she set down an unopened bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey and another tumbler. Millicent murmured a thank you before cracking open the bottle and pouring a double measure for each of them.

"What on earth are you doing?" Draco hissed at her from across the table.

"I would think it was obvious Draco," Millicent chided him. "You are drowning your sorrows like the pathetic tosser you are, and I am keeping you company."

"Pathetic tosser?" Draco snapped indignantly. His pale face turned pink in fury and he glared across the table.

"What would you call a wizard who has pined after the same bloke for twelve years?" Millicent retorted.

"I have not!" Draco growled. He fumed silently and glared at Millicent a bit more.

The two of them had been friends since childhood. A five year-old Draco had haughtily informed Millicent that he wouldn't marry her if she wouldn't share her toys. Millicent had laughed in his face and told him she wasn't going to marry anyone. Draco had been intrigued since up until that point every little girl he had ever met had declared that she was going to marry him. He had decided with the infinite wisdom of a five year-old that Millie Bulstrode was fun and that he liked her. In all the years since then Draco's opinion hadn't really altered that much. He still thought that Mills was fun, and he still liked her.

Draco frowned. "You've been crying," he accused.

Millicent snorted. "I have not," she argued. "It's windy outside. Made m'eyes water."

"You have, too," Draco countered. He peered at her carefully. "You definitely have. Your eyes are all puffy and red." He scowled fiercely at her. "What has that idiot done now?"

"I broke up with him," Millicent muttered.

"On Valentine's Day?" Draco goggled at her.

"Apparently his Valentine's Day plans did not include me," Millicent explained before swallowing her Firewhiskey. She set the tumbler down with a _thunk_. "Or perhaps he'd forgotten it was Valentine's Day. He was terribly busy cheating on me with Weasley."

"_Weasley_?" Draco stared at her for a moment. "Wait a minute… which one?"

"Boot's straight, Draco, remember? Which one do you think?" Millicent retorted.

"_Ginny Weasley_?" Draco breathed his silver eyes wide. "But…"

"Ah, right on cue," Millicent said with a small smirk as the door to the Three Broomsticks flew open again.

Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, etc. stood in the doorway of the Three Broomsticks. He marched over to the bar and sat on the only empty stool left. He spoke quietly to Rosmerta who deposited a bottle of Ogden's and a tumbler at his elbow. He poured himself a double measure and knocked it back in one swallow. Draco stared.

"Down boy," Millicent commanded softly. "Give him time to deal with today."

"But…," Draco tore his eyes away from Potter with difficulty and turned back to Millicent.

Millicent shrugged. "Maybe he's lousy in bed?"

"Mills!"

"Okay, fine. He's a fantastic lover of incomparable skill. Weaselette got hit in the head with a Bludger and lost her mind?" Millicent smirked at him.

"Better," Draco allowed.

"He just hasn't met the right man yet? Tough luck for you old boy," Millicent continued with a gleeful expression.

"I hate you," Draco muttered.

"You adore me," Millicent countered. "You worship the very air I breathe and the ground I walk on."

"I find that very hard to believe at the moment," Draco said tartly.

"I reported everything to the Head of the DMLE," Millicent informed him. "It happened while Boot was supposed to be on the clock in a Ministry supply closet. I volunteered my memories and everything."

"Why on earth would you do that?" Draco demanded.

"Do you ever pay attention?" Millicent rolled her eyes at Draco. "Boot works in the Games division under Ludo Bagman. He's part of the committee that chooses England's team for the Quidditch World Cup. Weaselette is a professional Quidditch player."

"Merlin's beard!" Draco stared at Millicent. "I adore you. I worship the very air you breathe and the ground you walk on."

"I told you," Millicent said with a little smile.

Draco stood up so that he could lean over the table and kiss Millicent right on the lips. "Thank you," he said earnestly.

Millicent smacked him on the arm. "What in Merlin's name is _wrong _with you?" She hissed at him.

Draco frowned at her in confusion. "What?"

"You just kissed me. In the middle of the Three Broomsticks. This will be in this evening's Prophet for sure. Then your mother and my mother will begin sending owls back and forth and before you know it we'll be _married_," Millicent informed him in an icy voice. "As much as I love you Draco the thought of being married to you makes my blood run cold."

"I'm not that bad," Draco protested.

Millicent snorted. Then she smiled smugly. "However, being kissed by you in the Three Broomsticks does apparently afford some benefits. I do believe Potter is glaring at me."

"What?" Draco yelped.

Millicent kicked him under the table. "For Merlin's sake, Draco, don't _look_. How on earth did you get into Slytherin?"

"I threatened the Sorting Hat," Draco grumbled as he rubbed his wounded shin.

"Well… that actually works. That's a very Slytherin sort of thing to do," Millicent acceded after a moment.

"Is he really glaring?" Draco asked hopefully.

"I think so," Millicent murmured. "It's hard to tell with Potter. Then again, he could just be furious with the world because he just found out his girlfriend of the last three years cheated on him." 

"That's true," Draco agreed with a small sigh.

"Just be patient Draco. If it's meant to be it will happen someday," Millicent said and patted his hand.

"You're just saying that," Draco muttered.

Millicent shrugged. "Fine. He's probably straight. He'll marry a nice Muggleborn or a half-blood and pop out an entire Quidditch team."

Draco stared at her in horror. "What an awful thing to say to me. On _Valentine's Day_ of all days."

Millicent shrugged again. "You don't really know him, Draco. I don't think anyone does except maybe Granger or that other Weasley."

"I'm trying," Draco defended himself. "I've tried to be as polite as I can with all of the Aurors including him. I've done all of the projects they've assigned me. I've worked with all the partners they've assigned me. I've never complained. I get excellent evaluations every year."

"And your point?" Millicent asked.

"We've worked together a few times. He's always been polite to me. He's never once said anything rude or disparaging, and I've had several partners who were," Draco explained bitterly.

"Okay," Millicent said. "I guess you don't repulse him enough that he can't work with you. That's always a good sign."

"You are an awful friend," Draco complained. "I don't know why I hang out with you."

"Because I'm always honest," Millicent replied immediately. "And I actually like you despite the fact that you're an arrogant git."

"There is that," Draco admitted.

_18th February _

_Leaky Cauldron_

"Good afternoon, Mr Malfoy," Hannah Abbot said with a cheerful smile. "Table for one?"

"No," Draco contradicted her. "Table for two."

"Ogden's?" Hannah tried again.

"Tea," Draco corrected her.

"Very good, Mr Malfoy," Hannah replied cheerfully. She pointed to a booth in the corner.

Draco nodded politely and moved toward the booth in the corner. Hannah Abbot's eternal cheerfulness always unnerved Draco slightly and he slid into the booth with a sigh of relief. Within a number of minutes Millicent entered the Leaky. Draco raised his hand at her and she nodded and moved toward him.

"I have had the worst day," Millicent informed him as she sat down with a sigh.

"What happened?" Draco asked and then shook his head. Millicent was an Unspeakable and couldn't talk about her work. In fact, it was a tiny breach of etiquette that he knew even that much, but technically Millicent hadn't _told_ him anything. "Never mind. I always forget."

Millicent shrugged. "It actually had nothing to do with work. I am absolutely sick and tired of the fake sympathy from everyone at the Ministry."

"Ah." Draco could only imagine how much the contrived attempts at consolation by people who could care less about Millicent would irritate her.

"I suppose it could be worse," Millicent continued sourly. "They might be trying to congratulate me on my marriage to you."

"Here now," Draco protested.

A small ruckus occurred at the front door as Terry Boot and Ginny Weasley entered the Leaky Cauldron. Millicent paled and turned resolutely back to Draco.

"Did they see me?" She whispered.

Draco shook his head. "I don't think so." He paused and tilted his head slightly. "Obfuscation Charm?"

"Mmm." Millicent considered it for a moment and then nodded. She unobtrusively tapped herself with her wand and her features blurred slightly before realigning themselves into a complete stranger.

They sat together in tense silence until Boot and Weaselette were seated in the booth behind them. Draco rolled his eyes at Millicent whose expression had become tight and pinched. He felt a surge of anger and a strong desire to rearrange Boot's face. Few people knew Mills the way he did, and fewer still even wanted to do so. It always irked him when she was dismissed as though she wasn't worth knowing. Boot didn't deserve a girl like Millicent.

"You'll never believe what happened to me today," The Weaselette was saying indignantly.

"What was that love," Boot asked in a soothing voice.

"The DMLE had me investigated," The Weaselette complained. "_Me_! And the barrister was that pompous arse Zabini."

Draco smirked to himself. Blaise had a bit of a crush on Mills, but he was too shy to say anything to her about it. It was amusing, really. With complete strangers, or women he didn't care about, Blaise could be smooth, suave and seductive. But when it came to the girl he'd liked since their repeated Seventh Year he was worse than the most anti-social recluse possible. Draco knew that Blaise was almost incoherent with rage about the situation that Boot had created and its possible ramifications upon Millicent's emotional well-being. He almost wished he'd been present at that investigation.

"Ah." Boot cleared his throat. "About that. Zabini's sort of a friend of Millicent's. I imagine she's asked him to put you through the wringer."

Millicent shot Draco and indignant look and mouthed _I would never_. Draco nodded silently. It would never occur to Millicent to be that blatant.

"Whatever did you see in that hag anyway?" The Weaselette demanded.

Bright pink suffused Millicent's cheeks and her eyes widened slightly. Millicent absolutely hated being called a hag. It was the one name that was guaranteed to cut the deepest. Just because she'd had an unfortunate adolescence—and really who hadn't—didn't excuse the casual cruelty of that comment. Draco _knew_ that she was clinging to her self-control right now. That was it. Draco was _done_. He stood up abruptly and held out a hand to Millicent. She automatically took it and allowed him to pull her out of the Leaky.

_20__th__ February_

_Ministry of Magic Cafeteria_

The curry in the Ministry of Magic's cafeteria was only barely passable as food. Still, Millicent was in a hurry and it was here. She ate mechanically, but tried to avoid tasting her food. When Draco sat down across from her she paused with her spoon in mid-air. It was sometime after midnight and Draco should have gone home hours ago. The smirk on his face was unnerving.

"What have you done?" She asked warily.

"It isn't what I've done. It's what I'm going to do," Draco retorted smugly.

"All right, I give. What are you going to do?" Millicent asked.

"I'm going to help you get revenge on your low-life, scumbag ex-boyfriend," Draco informed her.

"Draco," Millicent said wearily.

"What?" He appeared to be honestly confused.

"He isn't worth it, Draco. If I go to that much bother it means he was important," Millicent explained.

"But he insulted you," Draco protested.

Millicent snorted in amusement. "If that's the criteria then I need you to help me get revenge on most of Hogwarts. I'm going to be extremely busy for quite some time."

"But," Draco tried to protest again, but Millicent shook her head at him.

"Look, I love that you are offended on my behalf. It's very sweet, but it isn't necessary. Boot and the Weaselette are being investigated. Blaise knows what he's doing. They've dug their own graves, so to speak. Let Blaise bury them," Millicent said quietly.

"Fine," Draco said with a sigh. "We'll do it your way."

Millicent smiled and patted his hand. "Thank you," she said softly.

"For what?" Draco asked.

Millicent shook her head. "For being you."


End file.
